


but i won't stop until that boy is mine

by rhysgore



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Sibling Incest, draven's stupid shitty outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: “What’s so funny?”“You’re jealous,” Draven said, smirking.





	but i won't stop until that boy is mine

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my number one enabler. you know who you are. hopefully this makes vday better (｡♥‿♥｡)

He didn’t bother to knock. Instead, Darius practically kicked the door open, jerking his head to the side to avoid the axe that was almost immediately thrown in his direction. It nearly clipped his temple, embedding itself in the wooden frame next to him with a thud, and Darius raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do you have to do that every time?” He asked, dryly.

 

“Maybe if you stopped deliberately scaring the shit out of me, I would try to kill you less,” Draven replied, sniffing. He turned back to the mirror on the table in front of him, propped up against the wall, and picked up a cloth that smelled strongly of something Darius suspected might have been alcohol. Blood and warpaint alike were smeared across his face, and Draven dabbed at it with the cloth, grimacing as he wiped away the worst splotches. “I could have been  _ naked,  _ you know,” he added, in an almost sultry tone- a far cry from how he’d sounded mere seconds ago.

 

He looked like he was on the way already. The spiked gloves, ostentatious belt contraption, and small metal circlet that were all staples of Draven’s “work uniform” were in a messy pile on the ground, leaving Draven only in his absurdly tight leather pants and the odd, only half-there shirt he wore, the one that showed off the tight muscle of his midriff. Black straps rested against his abdomen, travelling downwards before they disappeared underneath his pants- Draven was the only person Darius knew who wore his underwear around his shoulders.

 

“And I’m  _ sure  _ that would have been extremely objectionable.”

 

Darius ducked, and what looked like a hairbrush sailed over his head, landing somewhere behind him with a clatter.

 

“Fuck off. I have  _ standards,  _ you know.”

 

_ Sure you do. They’re just not that high. _

 

“Good show tonight. Flashy and ridiculous, as always,” Darius said, changing the subject.The lack of Draven insisting that he leave was tantamount to being invited in, and Darius slid into his brother’s dressing room, shutting the door behind him.

 

“You think so?” Draven turned back around for a second, practically glowing from the praise. “I thought it was some of my best work, personally. You see the way that one man freaked out when he realized there was an axe in his neck? I’ve been working on that- if you aim  _ just right  _ they don’t die right away. It’s hilarious. The crowd loves it.” 

 

He preened, dabbing at the thick lines under his eyes. Without the makeup on, without the blood spattered over his face, Draven looked younger. Even the ridiculous mustache couldn’t ruin the illusion, and Darius smiled faintly.

 

“I brought you something,” he said, watching Draven’s reflection raise a quizzical eyebrow. “Flowers.”

 

“How uncharacteristically  _ generous  _ of you. Nothing means more to me than a gift from a fan.” Draven smirked slightly, and pointed over towards a table Darius hadn’t previously noticed. “You can put them with the rest, if you want.”

 

Sitting on the table, stacked almost comically high, was a mishmashed pile of…  _ things.  _ Delicate looking pastries, carefully decorated and absolutely tantalizing. Flowers- big, extravagant bouquets that made Darius’ own handful look like he’d barely scraped it together. Other… oddities, ones that Darius really didn’t want to think about. His face set, and he glared at the pile contemptuously

 

“Trying to set it on fire with your brain?” Draven’s voice snapped him back, and Darius whirled around, embarrassed, to find that his brother had stood up, and was leaning back against the table, arms crossed over his chest. He’d scrubbed the makeup off of his entire face, save for his lips, still coated with something that made them look wet, shiny, and red.

 

“Who are these from?” Darius asked, slightly deflated.

 

“My  _ other  _ fans.”

 

Something about that rubbed Darius the wrong way. Logically, he knew Draven’s shows were popular- he was somewhat of a celebrity in Noxus, better known for the performances he put on than his military prowess. Darius had been a little disdainful at first, finding out his brother wanted to use his talent to stroke his own already massive ego, but the fact remained that Draven was good at what he did.

 

And he had  _ fans.  _

 

Darius’ expression darkened as he thought about it. All those greedy eyes, watching Draven. Wanting what they thought was theirs. Thinking they could buy it, buy  _ Draven _ with this extravagant barrage of presents. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, half-strangling his pithy bouquet. 

 

Outside of the dark cloud of his thoughts, Draven laughed.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“You’re  _ jealous,”  _ Draven said, smirking. 

 

Darius wanted to deny it, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He gritted his teeth, forehead wrinkling.

 

“Are you sleeping with any of them?” He demanded, unable to stop himself from doing so.

 

To Darius’ annoyance, that question didn’t seem to surprise Draven at all. Instead of being offended, scandalized, or anything of the sort, he laughed.

 

“Should I not be? There’s plenty of Draven to go around, you know,” he said, rolling the R and drawing it out obnoxiously long in the way only he could pull off.  _ Draaaaaaaven.  _ “How do you think I got so popular, hmmh?”

 

Darius knew he was being baited. People might have thought that his brother was stupid, but people were generally idiots. Draven had a  _ way _ with words, and had always, always known the easiest way to get under his skin. Even knowing that, Darius couldn’t stop himself from snarling, barreling forwards, and shoving Draven back on the table, pinning him to the mirror with a huge, muscular hand splayed out over the center of his chest. Draven yelped, hands instinctively flying upwards to Darius’ wrist. 

 

Rather than try to pull away, however, he traced a contemplative finger up Darius’ forearm.

 

“Shit, you’re hot when you’re angry,” he said, and Darius noted the low, sultry thrum in his voice.

 

“Is that why you always try so hard to get on my last damn nerve?” 

 

“Maaybe.” Aggression sated, Darius could admit that Draven had been absolutely correct, even if he was just trying to tease. Bitter jealousy coalesced in his stomach, anger at the of someone else,  _ anyone  _ else laying a hand on his brother. “It’s not my fault it’s always so  _ easy.”  _

 

Draven tried to adjust his position, and with a warning growl, Darius shoved him back down. It didn’t seem to bother Draven unduly, though- where any other man might have shrunk down from the posturing predator pinning them in place, his body language shifted to something more inviting. His shoulders slumped backwards, his spine curved forwards, and his knees parted, legs spreading.

 

“But if you’re so sore about it, maybe I could see my way to giving you a  _ private show,”  _ he drawled.

 

Eyelashes fluttering coyly, Draven slid his hands over Darius’ shoulders, looping them around his neck to pull him in. His knees moved up as Darius got closer, squeezing his sides.

 

“Does that come with a backstage pass?” Darius asked, grinning when that got a faux-mortified gasp out of Draven.

 

“Was that a  _ joke?”  _ Draven’s eyes were comically wide. “And a dirty one too. Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

 

“Mm, maybe you’re just rubbing off on me.”

 

It took a little longer for that one to hit, but when it did, Draven sputtered.  _ “Two in a row!  _ I can hardly believe it. Keep this up and you might be in danger of actually developing a sense of humor, Darius.”

 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

 

Draven took the command like a challenge, surging forwards as far as he was capable of to meet Darius. His lips tasted of whatever makeup he’d applied to them earlier, something cloyingly sweet. Something that Darius wanted  _ more _ of, even as he bit and sucked at Draven’s lower lip. It wasn’t an aphrodisiac (that he knew of), but it  _ felt  _ like one. Everything about Draven was intoxicating in that way- his voice, the way his feet crossed at the ankles at the small of Darius’ back, the way his fingers dipped under the hem of Darius’ shirt, tracing his vertebrae. Darius wanted, and he wanted  _ everything.  _ He rubbed the conspicuous bulge in his trousers against Draven’s thigh, feeling wiry muscle flex against it.

 

His other hand, the one not preoccupied with holding Draven down, moved to wind itself in his hair, determined to mess up the stupid, excessively styled upsweep Draven insisted on keeping.

 

“How much product do you have  _ in?” _ Darius regretted his decision when his hand came away covered in some sort of thick, oily substance. He pulled away, wiping his hand on Draven’s shirt.

 

“What, you thought it stayed like that naturally?” Draven asked with a scoff. He stared at the greasy smudge on his shirt in disgust, then shrugged, and reached for the hem of it. Darius helped get it off, counting himself lucky that Draven had already shed most of his outfit’s more ridiculous adornments. Those spiked gloves could _really_ hurt- he’d found out the hard way. He tossed the shirt into some far-off corner of the dressing room before running and appreciative hand down Draven’s torso, the lean, sculpted muscle of his pecs and abdomen. “Even someone as handsome as me sometimes needs a little help. Speaking of _help-_ drawer to your right.”

 

Fumbling around for a moment, Darius’ thick fingers closed around the object he knew Draven wanted- a small container of oil, which he took out of the drawer and placed none-too-delicately on the table’s surface. He was hard to the point of aching as Draven worked his shirt off. Without that ridiculous belt contraption in the way, Darius could see the Draven’s own erection, thick and prominent through the material of his absurdly tight pants. He slid his hand down, cupping it lightly.

 

“Hurry up,” Draven whined, rubbing himself against Darius’ palm. “I’m not getting any younger, prettier, or more fuckable here.”

 

“More impatient, however…” Ignoring Draven’s pointed eye-roll, Darius started to work his pants off, peeling the black leather away from Draven’s thighs. Secretly, he’d always been impressed- and somewhat mystified- by Draven’s ability to do half the things he did with his legs restricted like they were. Someone less vain might have gone for a more practical pair of trousers, but Draven insisted on leather.

 

_ They make my ass look amazing,  _ he’d always said, and Darius couldn’t help but agree. 

 

Soon enough, Draven was naked, save for his strange choice of underwear, bare ass resting on the wood of his dressing room table. Elastic black cloth ran from his crotch up the length of his body, holding his cock neatly in place. 

 

Darius always had the same question. “Why?”

 

“It keeps my balls in place when I’m throwing axes around.” Draven shrugged the straps off of his shoulders, shimmying out of it.

 

“Where are they going to go? Are you worried they’re going to fall off or something?” The idea was mildly horrifying to Darius, and he tamped down on it by stroking Draven’s cock, pressing a thumb to the swollen head. Precome leaked over his fingers, oozing from Draven’s slit the more Darius squeezed him.

 

“You try doing my job, see how you like having them bounce everywhere,” Draven replied with a sniff, the disdain somewhat hampered by how hungry he looked. He peered at Darius through long eyelashes, pupils blown, smirking.  _ Come and get it.  _

 

Darius had never been one to turn down a challenge. He reached for the oil, uncorking the bottle and smearing it liberally over his hand before pushing back Draven’s legs, nearly bending him in half. He probed at Draven’s hole, teasing lightly before pressing inwards.

 

“Massive meat hands,” Draven said.

 

“You know what they say about guys with big hands…”

 

“Yeah, they prefer to stand there and talk rather than finger the gorgeous naked man right in front of them.” Wiggling his hips, Draved tried to get more of Darius inside of him. He was too petulant to tease most of the time, and Darius relented after a moment, sliding another finger into his ass and spreading them apart, easing Draven’s hole open. “Mmmh, that’s better. You know I like it rough, baby.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Darius slid in a third finger, savoring the way Draven whimpered softly, bucking his hips forwards. Demanding more with his body as much as his words. His cock rested against his stomach, twitching and drooling clear fluid onto the outline of his muscles. Long, lean legs, still wrapped around Darius’ waist, tugged him closer.

 

“My agent’s gonna be pissed at me. He keeps telling me I shouldn’t fuck groupies.” Darius’ other hand, the one that wasn’t three knuckles deep in Draven’s ass, moved to the waistline of his pants. He hastily shoved them down, just enough to get his cock out, and Draven made an appreciative noise that Darius tried very hard not to let go straight to his head. “Screw him. How can he possibly expect me to deprive myself of the finer things in life?”

 

“And I’m one of those?” Darius ignored the “groupie” comment, reaching for the oil again, slicking up his cock, making sure that every inch of it was coated.

 

“Well… your dick is, at least.” When Darius glared at him, he shrugged. “What can I say? I inherited the looks, the stage presence, and the sense of humor, and you were gifted with the nicest cock I’ve ever had the pleasure of having inside of me. It balances out.”

 

“You  _ do  _ actually want me to fuck you, right?”

 

Draven traced his hand in front of his lips, miming sealing them.

 

“Better.” 

 

Darius pulled his fingers out, lining the swollen head of his cock up with Draven’s hole, rubbing it over the twitching ring of muscle. To his credit, Draven only squirmed a little as Darius teased him, trying his best to keep his hips still. Bit by bit, Darius pushed forwards, easing himself into Draven. It was slow. Painfully slow. He wanted nothing more than to slam into Draven and fuck him as hard as he possibly could, but holding back was worth it to see the petulant, frustrated look on Draven’s face.

 

“You want more?” He asked, head tilting to the side.

 

“What, you want me to beg for it or something?” Draven waited, glaring at him. When Darius didn’t say anything else, he heaved out a sigh.  _ “Gee,  _ Darius, I’d  _ really _ appreciate if you’d stop fucking around and dick me down already.” Darius raised an eyebrow, and Draven grumbled.  _ “Please.” _

 

“Such good manners. Someone must have raised you well.”

 

“At least be nice enough to pull out before you start sucking your own dick.” Draven swatted at his shoulder blade, irritated. “Or better yet, j-  _ ah-” _

 

He cut himself off with a low moan as Darius thrust forwards, burying himself in Draven in one deft stroke. Legs squeezed around his waist, urging him forwards until Darius’ pelvis was pressed up against Draven’s backside. 

 

_ Fuck,  _ Darius thought, squeezing his eyes shut. It felt good to be inside of him. It wasn’t just that Draven’s ass was amazing, tight and hot around him- although it was- but that something about being here, doing this, felt  _ right.  _ Draven was  _ his-  _ and Darius had every intent to cement that fact. He pulled out almost all the way, and thrust back in, hard enough to send Draven sliding an inch or two back on the wooden table, hard enough to make him gasp as though he’d been punched in the stomach.

 

“Fuck, that’s g-good,” Draven hissed. With every movement of Darius’ hips, he let out a little moan, low, harsh, and desperate. “C’mon, harder. I can take it.” He tugged Darius in for another kiss, stubble scraping against Darius’ face, biting at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

 

Sex with Draven was never neat- he was all grabbing hands, scraping nails, choking out obscenities between kisses. Even after a long day of physically exerting himself, he still had the energy of someone ten years his junior. He was never content to sit back and let Darius do all the work, pushing back on his brother’s cock with every stroke, clenching down around him.

 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he moaned. “Missed having your dick filling me up- hah- so fucking  _ big, shit,  _ I-” He cut himself off with a gasp as Darius grabbed his neglected cock, huge hand wrapping around the shaft and giving it a firm pump. “No one fucks me like you do, baby. You’re gonna come inside me, right?”

 

“You’re such a slut,” Darius muttered, feeling Draven’s hands tug at his hair.  _ Like reins,  _ he thought, and unbidden, the idea of Draven riding him sprung to mind, lithe body bouncing as he laid back and watched. Groaning, he filed the idea away for next time.

 

“Only for you,” Draven said, laughing breathlessly. “Only- shit,  _ yes-  _ f-for you.”

 

The words went straight to Darius’ cock, a surge of possessiveness making him grab Draven’s hips tighter, digging his fingers into the skin hard enough to leave bruises. With the shirt he wore, the low cut of his pants, people would definitely be able to see them, would probably spread rumors about Draven’s mysterious lover, wonder who it was, be  _ jealous  _ of whoever it was. 

 

Rictus grin curling across his face, Darius slammed himself into Draven with enough force that the entire table moved, bumping back against the wall.  _ Good.  _ He wanted them to be jealous. They  _ should  _ have been- Draven was  _ his.  _ Tomorrow, he’d have the marks to prove it.

 

“I’m- Darius, I’m gonna-” Draven’s face contorted, muscles in his neck straining as he tried to hold back. A lot of energy, but a short fuse, and being stuck between the rock and hard place of Darius’ hand and cock was quickly wearing him thin.

 

“Yeah,” Darius breathed, “go ahead.”

 

He pulled at Draven’s cock, relishing the sensation of his brother coming undone underneath him. His thighs trembled, his spine arched, and he swore loudly as he came over Darius’ fingers. Darius worked him through it, fucking him in time with the strokes of his hand until Draven had given all he could give. His cock was red, twitching and oversensitive, and he whimpered as Darius ran a thumb down the shaft, at every movement of Darius’ erection inside of him.

 

“Come on, sweetheart, fill my ass real good.”

 

“Such a romantic,” Darius said, huffing out a laugh. He could feel himself getting close as well, balls tightening as his thrusts became more and more erratic. What little control he’d had to begin with was ebbing away, and as usual, it was all Draven’s fault. Too pretty, too enticing for his own damn good- Darius could understand why others wanted Draven so badly.

 

But he’d be damned if he’d let them have him.

 

With a strangled moan, he buried himself in Draven’s ass, cock pulsing as he came. He shoved them both down against the table, smashing his lips against Draven’s, and his brother kissed back frantically, nails scratching down the length of Darius’ back, marking Darius just as distinctly as Darius had marked him. 

 

Faintly, as he came down from the high, Darius wondered if possessiveness ran in the family.

 

Draven was gasping underneath him as he pulled away, satisfaction written clearly across his face. A good fucking always served to quiet him down, and Darius felt his ego inflate just slightly at the fact that his brother was clearly at a complete loss for words, at least for the moment. Slowly, he pulled out, using a thumb to spread Draven open, smirking in satisfaction at the way cum lazily dripped out of his twitching hole.

 

“Cute,” he said.

 

“Mmm. I’m sure you can find someone to commission a painting from if you like it that much.” Rather than be embarrassed by the lewd display, Draven spread his legs wider, tilting his hips up to afford Darius a better look. Darius ran a finger around the rim, enjoying the array of little choked noises doing so eked out of him. “So, are you happy with the quality of the behind-the-scenes tour?”

 

“I think I could be convinced to try it again,” Darius replied. His other hand ran up and down the length of Draven’s thigh, circling the already-forming bruises on his flank. “That is, if you’re ever feeling generous enough to give me another pass.”

 

“Anything for my number one fan,” Draven said. He held in his laugh for exactly five seconds, before bursting into a giggling fit. Darius watched him, naked and laughing, with an affection reserved exclusively for his brother.

 

_ Number one, huh? _

 

He liked the sound of that.


End file.
